


Love Me

by WanreNolde



Series: Remember Me [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Also Sad Christmas Things, BAMF Narcissa Black Malfoy, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Cedric Diggory Lives, Cute Christmas Things, Draco's Grandmother was Awful, Harry Potter Has a Twin, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Past Child Abuse, Victorian Flower Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28153953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanreNolde/pseuds/WanreNolde
Summary: Once the Triwizard Tournament was explained, she had to sigh in relief. There was no way that Harry could possibly find his way roped into the dangerous tournament due to the age line, and she doubted he wanted to considering how much he had told her he wanted a normal year.***Harry was scared. The Goblet had pulled his name, and he didn’t understand how. His mind, still stuck in its old ways, wanted to blame Malfoy, but he remembered the age line and how much the blonde boy had changed. He didn’t know who would have done it. There was no one in the school who he suspected, although he was still wary of Snape as always.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Remember Me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037925
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

Harry James and Lillian Nichole Potter made their way to the Burrow, shaking with excitement. They had apparated into the field beyond the home, and Nichole couldn’t help but stare in awe at the large house. She could practically smell cookies and stew from her spot near the edge of the field, and it reminded her of the home she had just left behind. She gripped onto her bag with one hand and the letter from Draco in her other, the same letter promising to see her at the Quidditch World Cup in a few days. She couldn’t wait.

Harry was excited to be back, having missed the Burrow terribly while he was in America. Although his life was better now, as Dumbledore had been unable to convince the Hendersons that he belonged anywhere other than with them, he still missed seeing the Weasleys, and part of him longed for the antics his friends so often got up to. 

The door opened to a smiling Mrs. Weasley, and both twins felt themselves being pulled into a warm hug. The woman smelled like cookies and cinnamon, Nichole noted, and there was a distinct feeling she emitted. Nichole thought that, maybe, Molly Weasley felt like magic. 

***  
The Quidditch World Cup was awe-inducing for both of them, and they both felt their jaws drop as they walked onto the field containing tents from both sides of the game. After they had settled in, Nichole left to meet Draco at the spot he had instructed her. She waited, wondering where on Earth he could be.

Finally, she felt two long arms wrap around her waist, and smelled mahogany and apples as his head landed on her shoulder. The fourteen year old girl giggled quietly before turning to face him, and smiled wide as soon as she saw Draco. His black suit and turtleneck fit him well, and she felt completely underdressed in her jeans and t-shirt. 

Draco’s smile was hard to get a glimpse of for most people, but here she was watching his lips curl up and his eyes glimmer. She thought that she had never seen someone as beautiful as him. She wanted to stay in that moment forever, but Cedric Diggory’s voice calling her name interrupted her thoughts. 

The couple parted ways, making their way back to their tents to get ready for the game. 

***  
The meeting between the Malfoys and Weasleys had been awkward, to say the least, and Nichole found herself rubbing her temples as she witnessed her boyfriend’s father attempt to insult the Weasleys. Draco, however, was perfectly quiet, knowing that she would be upset should he agree with his father, yet terrified to say anything against the man. 

Afterwards, she and Draco waited until the others had gotten ahead of them, before she looked at him over the railing and sighed. The boy looked at her with sad eyes, mumbling out an “I know, love,” before following his father.   
***  
The twins were running side by side as the Death Eaters attacked, but both of them found themselves on the ground. Nichole was a few feet away from Harry, and she groaned as she felt feet trample her. 

When she was finally shaken awake, she noticed two things. First, Harry was at wand-point, the man holding said wand accusing him of something. Second, Draco had somehow found her, and she knew that whatever had happened, he was seething over it. 

Her eyes were closing again, but Draco and Ron were telling her she had to stay awake, something about a head injury. She thought she felt something sticky on the back of her head, and one look at a worried Hermione was enough to confirm that theory. 

Once they had gotten off the campsite, Draco cast a healing charm on her head, kissed her goodbye, and hurried off.

Something was wrong, and she couldn’t help but think that Lucius Malfoy’s smug behavior during the event had something to do with it.


	2. Chapter 2

She had wondered when the crazed DADA professor would snap, and it seemed to come much too soon. Unforgivable curses were something only spoken about when Draco and Pansy whispered about them in the common room. Theodore had always left the room during these discussions, as most of them involved theorizing about the aftereffects. Now, as she sat next to Draco, watching a spider being tortured on Neville’s desk, she realized why. 

Theodore was shaking behind her, Pansy holding onto his hands as they whispered to each other, and she exchanged a look with Harry, who looked like he was barely holding back his anger. Hermione, however, was unable to hold back as she threw scathing comments at the man, questioning how he could possibly cause such anxiety in students and stand there laughing about it. 

***  
The international cooperating thing was already going in the wrong direction, Nichole thought as Draco spoke rapidly in French to one of the Beauxbaton girls. She had never been jealous before, but it felt like he had been completely ignoring her since the French school entered the building. She knew she should try to make friends, but she was tired and her head hurt and she really just wanted to sleep.

Once the Triwizard Tournament was explained, she had to sigh in relief. There was no way that Harry could possibly find his way roped into the dangerous tournament due to the age line, and she doubted he wanted to considering how much he had told her he wanted a normal year. 

Pansy was watching the French girl too, both of them glaring as she giggled and placed her arm flirtatiously on Draco’s shoulder. It was like Nichole was invisible, and Pansy seemed to think the same thing. 

Blaise was ignoring the girl, choosing to speak to Daphne instead, and Nichole wished she could do the same. Her annoyance carried into the Slytherin common room, when Draco finally decided to pay attention to her as they all sat around on the couches.

“What’s wrong?” Draco sounded worried. Nichole thought that maybe she had been overreacting.

“Nothing,” she whispered before faking a smile, “I’m just tired and my head still hurts.”

Draco nodded before pulling her into him. She thought that she had definitely been overreacting, and that maybe she and Pansy should stop reading into things so much.   
As they all said goodnight, Draco pulled her back away from the others, kissing her on the forehead and telling her he hoped she had a good night.

It was then that she realized that in over a year of being together, not once had he told her he loved her. 

***  
Harry was scared. The Goblet had pulled his name, and he didn’t understand how. His mind, still stuck in its old ways, wanted to blame Malfoy, but he remembered the age line and how much the blonde boy had changed. He didn’t know who would have done it. There was no one in the school who he suspected, although he was still wary of Snape as always. 

Nichole had followed him into the hallway after he left the office. Her worried frown only making him more terrified. He felt like maybe his Gryffindor bravery had left him all of a sudden. 

The girl grabbed his hand, pulling him to sit on the bench furthest from the Great Hall. 

“You didn’t do it, right?” He was shocked. Why did everyone think he did it?

“No.”

“Good,” she mumbled, “want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Then get some sleep, we’re gonna start figuring out how to get you out of this alive tomorrow.”

He nodded, about to get up and leave without saying another word, when she pulled him into her for a hug. 

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too.”  
***  
Draco had gotten into Harry’s head, and ended up getting himself turned into a ferret by Moody. At least, that’s how Hermione had explained it to Nichole as she followed her to the hospital wing. Madame Pompfrey, Snape, and McGonagall were all standing around the blonde as he grew more and more red with each phrase. It was only when he saw Nichole and Hermione enter the room that he calmed down, clearing his throat before shrugging at the girls and throwing out a nervous smile. 

Nichole rubbed her temples and pursed her lips at the boy before walking over to him.

“What on Earth is wrong with you,” she questioned through clenched teeth.

“He started it,” the blonde muttered, his posh accent making him sound even more like an angry toddler. The girl sighed.

“You sound like a child,” she muttered back, before turning to listen to McGonagall, who was currently rambling about school policies and a need to evaluate Moody’s mental health.

***  
The two did not speak until they had gotten back into the common room, Nichole sighing before raising her eyebrow at him in question.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, head dipping down as they stood by the entryway.

“Draco,” she groaned out, rubbing her temples again. She thought that maybe she was beginning to resemble a stressed mother more than a fourteen year old girl. “You can’t just keep lashing out at people. This is the second time this week and it’s only Wednesday.”

The boy shivered, having been used to her scolding, but only when it was directed at Crabbe and Goyle. He hated having her disappointment directed at him. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled again. He tried to hold back tears as he watched her rub her temples. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately, and he remembered that last year she had only done so when she was extremely stressed. “Hey,” he whispered, before pulling her hands away from her head, holding them in his own as he kissed the small emerald ring on her right middle finger. She glanced up at him, her expression softening ever so slightly.

“You’re apologizing to the wrong Potter, sweetheart.”


	3. Chapter 3

Harry James Potter was not used to being apologized to - especially not by Draco Malfoy - but he accepted it nonetheless, if only so that his twin would stop rubbing her temples in stress.  
He figured he had bigger fish to fry, and the mismatched group of Slytherins and Gryffindors researched all of the past tournaments in an attempt to understand what Harry could be facing. 

All they found out, however, was that every task was deadly and that every tournament ended in tragedy.

***

Lilian Nichole Potter watched as her brother faced a dragon. She clutched onto Draco’s arm with one hand and the railing with the other. Hermione was on the other side of Pansy, mirroring her, as her brother finally caught onto his broom and whipped out of sight.

The golden egg was nothing compared to his life.

She hoped he could survive the next task.

***

The French girl apparently hadn’t noticed that Draco was currently smitten with one of the Potters, and continued to flirt with him. Nichole had a very limited understanding of French, but knew enough to understand that the girl wanted Draco to do some unsavoury things with her.

The same had occurred with a girl from Durmstrang who had taken a particular liking to the blonde, and Nichole had explained through loaded gestures and very angry inflections that Draco was hers and only hers. 

***

The Yule Ball was better than the high school dances Nichole had heard about growing up, but the music was awful and she found herself begging to be in charge of the playlist.

Draco was stunned once the music finally shifted over to her requests. He had never heard of Mazzy Star, but was infinitely grateful for the slow dancing with his girlfriend. However, he much preferred the dances he was familiar with, and told her such a fact as they spun around the dance floor. 

She held tightly to his hands as they danced, watching him intently as she listened to the music. Her black dress flowed behind her, and hugged her waist in a belted fashion. She was grateful that it hid her insecurities well, even though Draco had told her multiple times that she was perfect to him. 

She watched as the French girl spun around with her date, and she wondered if it had been a lie. Shaking her head, she focused back in on Draco and continued dancing, only stopping to get drinks and laugh at Harry’s awful attempts at dancing with Parvati Patil and coo over how adorable Neville and Ginny looked. Nichole thought that, maybe, she should focus less on the French girl and more on the smile gracing Draco’s face as he looked her in the eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Christmas break seemed shorter this year, but Nichole assumed it was due to her and Draco splitting it between their homes. Narcissa had formally invited the girl over for half the week, explaining in her letter to Draco that she wished to truly get to know “his beloved” and that she would not take no for an answer. Her parents had agreed on the plan, only asking that Draco spend the other half of the week with them in return. They had began their break in North Carolina, meeting the Hendersons at Kings Cross and walking over to their car. 

Draco had never been in a car before.  
Nichole and Harry had to hold back their laughter as his eyes widened and he stuttered out multiple questions. They only stopped when the blonde glared at them, holding tightly onto the handle at the top of the car and looking more pale than usual.

Anthony asked him a lot of questions, mostly about things he had no clue about, Anne simply nodded to him, and Elizabeth snorted and asked him why on earth he was wearing a suit.

Draco looked around and snapped into the realization that the entire family sported either jeans, sweatpants, or (in Mr. Henderson’s case) denim bermuda shorts. He blushed before turning and shooting another glare at the twins, who shrugged synchronously and turned back to their conversations. 

The portkey was in a field similar to the one by the Burrow, and Nichole felt a sense of longing for one of Molly Weasley’s hugs. She left with the others, wishing for the family of gingers to have a good Christmas.  
***  
Draco looked at her house with an odd sense of curiosity. He was continuously poking and prodding at different things, and almost lost his finger poking around at the gardening tools. Mrs. Henderson watched the boy as he wandered, smiling softly to herself as she spoke to her mother over the phone in the kitchen. 

They had decided to celebrate the next day in order to ensure that Nichole and Draco experienced a true family Christmas. At first, she thought that the children might be upset, but of course they were more than happy to open their presents even earlier. 

Once Draco had asked her daughter about every object in the garden, the two stepped inside, and Draco looked in awe at the inside of the house. 

The peace lasted for one moment before the boy was nearly knocked down by the family dog. Makka, a short sausage of a beagle, was overly excited at the prospect of a new friend, and Draco seemed entirely shocked by the fact that a dog that didn’t even reach his knees had nearly caused his demise. After a few moments of jumping, followed by Makka running around the living room and back to sit in front of him, Draco finally crouched down, somehow looking elegant as he did so, and smiled softly as the beagle licked his hands and allowed him to pet her. 

Mrs. Henderson and Nichole glanced up at each other, exchanging a smile as they watched the interaction. 

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” Draco’s voice was calmer than Nichole had ever heard it, and she wished she could play it on repeat forever.  
***  
Nichole and Harry shared a room this year, and Draco spent his nights with Anthony listening to the boy ramble about something called “soccer.” He had absolutely no idea what it was, only that it involved the same black and white ball that decorated most of the boy’s room. 

Draco thought that he might have fallen in love with the house, how it seemed so small, but large enough to fit an entire family and all of their love. He thought back to his childhood at the manor and thought that, despite his mother’s undying love, his home was just too big to ever be completely filled with love like this. 

He told Nichole this on the second night, right after his first dinner with her family.

She told him that sometimes there was too much love at their house that it seemed to seep out of the walls and into the gardens, and that she would happily bring some to the manor so it felt less empty. 

As a single tear made its way down his cheek, he thought that he had never felt more lucky.

***  
Mr. Henderson was an odd man, and Draco didn’t really question it until he saw the man interact with the entire family. He seemed to shut down once Mrs. Henderson’s relatives arrived (his own living across the country) and focused completely on cooking. The only times he heard the man speak were when he mumbled to Nichole, only stopping when she hugged him or rubbed his back, or when he said that dinner was ready. Once everyone sat down to open their gifts, Nichole moved in between Draco and her grandmother, and Mr. Henderson moved from only speaking to Nichole to only speaking to his wife or Anne. Draco watched as a small smile graced his lips, and wondered why he had gone from boisterous and funny to shy and small.

He asked her, thinking that maybe the man was just shyer in crowds. She told him to sit down.

“Draco,” Nichole began, holding the boy’s hand as they sat in her room. “My father is a complicated man. He had a complicated childhood and sometimes it comes back to the front of his mind.” Draco nodded, encouraging her to continue. “Sometimes he gets a bit anxious, and normally he can handle it but today seemed a bit harder for him. Have I ever told you why he took Harry in so fast?”

Draco shook his head and the girl sighed, rubbing her temples before continuing. 

“Both of my parents grew up in some pretty bad situations. Mumma grew up with Paw Paw and, even though he’s so kind and gentle now, he used to drink a lot and it made him different. I don’t know a lot about what he did, but I know that she got hurt a lot and that Maw Maw got hurt even more.” She sighed shakily. “Daddy, on the other hand, I know more about. When I was younger, I kept asking him why he never smiled in pictures, and he never really gave me an answer, but one day I looked like I was going to cry, and he hates it when I cry.” Tears started prickling at her eyes as she continued, squeezing Draco’s hand. “He told everyone we were going to get groceries and made me get in the truck with him. We drove around for at least an hour while he told me everything about his childhood.”

Draco got closer to the girl.

“When he was growing up, my grandpa was still alive. The house was tiny, they were poor, and there were nine mouths to feed. Unfortunately, my grandpa was less focused on working and more focused on whether he should drink Burnetts or Smirnoff for breakfast, so Nana had to work to keep them alive. When dad was around twelve, grandpa had him drive to the liquor store every morning so that they could buy more alcohol. Once they got home and grandpa had had his share, he would start to get violent. So violent that my dad knows what falling down a flight of stairs feels like more than what a hug does.”

She took a moment to steel herself before continuing, and Draco ran his thumb over her knuckles as he held her hand.

“He told me that day that he doesn’t smile because he got punched so much that his teeth are crooked. He also told me that he hates vodka more than any other alcohol, and that his deepest fear was turning into his father.” She looked Draco dead in the eyes as she finished. “My father is the furthest thing from that man. He has only ever threatened to hit me, and we both know he never intended to go through with it. He’s the best dad I could ever ask for, and sometimes I forget to tell him that, but I am so proud of that man and who he is, and I am so grateful that out of all the people in the world, he’s the dad I ended up with. He would do anything for us, and that means standing in the kitchen and cooking dinner for people who are too loud and who bring vodka into his house on Christmas.”

Draco nodded, and held her close as she thought about her father and all he had gone through.   
***  
The morning after the Hendersons’ early Christmas brought with it a family breakfast complete with pancakes, bacon, and Mrs. Henderson’s homemade blackberry jelly on toast. 

Draco was in love with it, and told Mr. Henderson that his cooking was absolutely splendid. 

Mr. Henderson gave him the same half-smile that he gave everyone, and made a few explicit jokes before cleaning the dishes. 

Draco dried the dishes with a towel, messing up a few times and leaving them a bit too wet before finally getting the hang of it. Harry chuckled and Nichole felt herself beaming as she watched the blonde joke around with her father.

She thought that she could get used to this, and prayed to every deity imaginable that she could see it every year from then on.


	5. Chapter 5

Christmas with the Malfoys was a terrifying idea for both Nichole and Harry. Harry was worried about her being around Lucius and Nichole was terrified of Narcissa hating her. Although Draco had reassured them both on multiple occasions (most of which consisted of him trying to convince Harry that no, there was no need to use an Unbreakable Vow because of course he would protect Nichole should his father decide to be an idiot) both of the twins were shaking by the time they reached the portkey. They had twenty minutes before the portkey was activated, and they spent the entire time hugging each other and mumbling about something. 

The other children stood around talking, and once Mr. Henderson’s wristwatch hit the hour mark, the twins broke apart as Nichole and Draco went around to each of her family members to say goodbye. 

Mrs. Henderson gave Draco an extra long hug, telling him he was always welcome in her home, and Mr. Henderson cracked a joke about Nichole never helping him with the dishes in an effort to thank the boy. 

They touched the rubber duck together and watched as the world swirled into a muddle of colors around them. 

***  
Narcissa Malfoy had spent her entire courtship with Lucius attempting to impress his parents. Abraxas was easy - as long as she acted like she genuinely cared about the preservation of pureblood lines, he liked her - but Melinoe was much tougher. The woman was fiercely protective of her son, and believed that Narcissa, what with two blood traitors in her family, one being a cousin and the other a sister, was inadequate. She had fought tooth and nail until, finally, Narcissa was forced to denounce Andromeda in front of her. Abraxas had simply huffed before returning to his novel, but Melinoe had immediately changed gears - even planting white Narcissus in the Manor’s gardens to show her acceptance. Only a year later, once they had graduated Hogwarts, Narcissa and Lucius had wed in the gardens, surrounded by white Narcissus and wild roses. Only years later, when instructing Draco, had she realized what those particular flowers meant. Standing at the receiving point as she waited for Draco to bring a Potter into their home, she understood how truthful they were.

As the two teenagers arrived, the woman painted on a smile, her black and blonde hair pulled back enough that her high cheekbones took the spotlight. Nichole was shaking, she noticed, and she remembered the sense of dread that had come with meeting Melinoe Malfoy. She realized now that she could not do the same to this girl, and only hoped that Lucius wouldn’t be too difficult. She walked over to meet the two, hugging them both in an unusual show of affection, and nodded sharply at Draco’s raised eyebrow. 

Their walk to the Manor was short, only ten minutes long, but it gave Narcissa enough time to see the gentle touches between her son and the ginger girl. She noticed how his hand held hers, thumb absentmindedly brushing over her knuckles as he spoke to her, telling her everything would be okay and that she was going to have a good time. She listened as the girl mumbled her insecurities, wondering if Narcissa would accept her, if Lucius would kill her just for existing, and if they would have to end their relationship because of her blood status. Narcissa listened to all of this and sighed, realizing that her preparations for her arrival had been exactly what the girl would need to feel accepted, and she only hoped that she would be seen as a caring mother, not a terrifying obstacle.  
***  
Malfoy Manor was big enough to fit her entire house (including the yard) three times. Nichole was shaking even worse now, so bad that she wondered if she had remembered her medication that morning. Draco squeezed her hand as they walked through the wards and up to the door. She watched as Narcissa practically glided up the steps, and watched her own feet carefully as she stepped behind her. 

There were white flowers in the pots at the front door that looked just like the yellow daffodils Nichole loved so much, and as she gazed at them she swore she heard the woman chuckle. She entered the home, clutching Draco’s hand even tighter as he visibly relaxed. As soon as they entered, a house elf greeted them, her black dress sticking out against her grey skin. 

“Welcome home Mistress Narcissa,” the elf spoke softly as she used her magic to levitate the woman’s coat onto a hanger. She did the same to Draco and Nichole’s coats as she muttered greetings to them as well. 

“Thank you Mipsy,” Narcissa spoke softly as Draco smiled at the elf. “Would you mind going ahead and setting up tea. It’s quite early, but Draco and Miss. Potter are probably peckish from their travels.”

Mipsy nodded and smiled before popping out of the room.

Narcissa strode gracefully into one of the various sitting areas in the Manor, and Draco led Nichole to a couch, sitting next to her as she attempted to cross her ankles in the manner Narcissa did. The woman chuckled and smiled at the girl, who simply looked down at her hands. 

“So,” Narcissa began, “how has break been so far?”

Draco began explaining to his mother all about the Hendersons, how much he enjoyed getting to know her father and the muggle items he had learned to use. Narcissa nodded along to her son’s ramblings, and Nichole smiled as she watched the boy she loved smile and laugh about little events that had occurred. She smiled more as she watched Narcissa grow increasingly interested in Draco’s monologue.

“That sounds wonderful, darling,” the woman spoke happily. “I’m so glad they like you and that you’ve learned so much.”

“It was amazing, mum,” Draco sighed, smiling as he looked at Nichole. “I really love her family, even Harry grew on me a bit.”  
“Well,” Narcissa spoke softly, her warm smile remaining as she continued, “I do hope that you will find your time here just as enjoyable. I am pleased to welcome you into our home, Miss. Potter. Please feel at home during your time here.”

With that, Narcissa took her leave and went to another room, telling Draco to bring Nichole to her room and show her around the house. Her only request was that they be present for dinner, which Lucius would not be attending due to work.  
***  
Draco’s bedroom was right across the hall from hers, in the west wing on the opposite side of the house that his parents slept in. Draco mentioned this, and the two immediately decided on returning to the routine they had established during their time with Professor Snape that first summer. 

The two set down the items they had been carrying - Nichole had been carrying her new Walkman around like it was attached to her hand, and it felt weird to set it down on the bed - and began their tour. Draco explained that the library was free-reign, but the room next to it contained dark artifacts and was not to be entered. The bathroom in their wing and all of the bathrooms on the lower floors were completely open, but none of the bathrooms in the east wing or upper floors were used. The elves had quarters on the bottom floor, and Draco never entered them, preferring to give them a space for themselves. Finally, the dungeons were absolutely off limits, as was his father’s study, as both were only accessible to Lucius and anyone he wished to enter. 

Nichole was perplexed, but resolved to simply stick with Draco at all times to avoid entering the wrong area of the Manor. 

Dinner with Narcissa was similar to tea with Narcissa, only this time she focused on Nichole, asking her every question imaginable. What was her favorite color? Mint Green. What was her favorite animal? Puffins. What did she think of the war? 

She hated it. All of it.

Narcissa smiled.

Nichole knew the woman hated it too. When Narcissa glanced over at Draco, she knew exactly why. Narcissa, much like Lily Potter, much like Molly Weasley, was a creature dependent on love and who would die to give her child a happy and fulfilling life.


	6. Chapter 6

Narcissa brought Nichole to the gardens the next morning before breakfast. Nichole, completely alone with the woman for the first time, shook as she glanced over each and every flower they passed.

“Are you familiar with Victorian flower language?” Narcissa sounded soft, motherly almost. Nichole nodded.

“I studied it before I came to Hogwarts,” the girl responded, “I did a project on it for school and I found the entire idea absolutely fascinating.”

Narcissa smiled gently at the girl. “Then I assume you can tell me what each of the flowers in this garden mean?”

Nichole walked over to a plot of flowers. “Amaryllis, for pride,” she began, stroking the red petals in front of her before pointing to another. “Fern, for magic and familial bonds. Hollyhock for ambition and valerian for readiness or quick wit.”

Narcissa smiled at her, “the perfect formula for a Slytherin.”

Nichole glanced over at the woman. The matriarch simply gestured for the girl to follow her to another corner of the garden where there stood an archway with identical plots on either side. 

“Could you tell me the meanings of these two flowers?”

Nichole glanced at them and furrowed her brow in confusion. “Well it’s a mixed signal, the white narcissus is in the daffodil family, and this particular kind represents hope and good fortune, but the wild roses surrounding them represent pleasure overcome by pain. I assume since the narcissus are being surrounded the planter means for it to be interpreted as a warning for the future.”

Narcissa nodded, waiting for the girl to fully focus on her before speaking. 

“Those flowers were planted for my wedding. My mother-in-law, Melinoe, was a terrifying woman. I spent years trying to please her, to convince her that I was good enough for her son. She wouldn’t accept me until I turned my back on my sister for marrying a muggleborn man.”

Nichole’s eyes widened. 

“Melinoe was a Selwyn, and the entire family was known for their acute knowledge of the language of flowers. She planted these the day before my wedding and placed a longevity charm on them. They won’t die.”

She gestured for the girl to follow her again. They finally ended right in front of the window nearest to the dining area. The area was covered in so many white flowers that at first she thought it may have snowed, and then she realized what they were.

White lilies and narcissus covered the area, intertwining so beautifully it took her breath away.

“White lilies,” Nichole whispered, “for the purest form of love.”

“I planted them for your mother.” Nichole turned sharply as the woman spoke. “I want you to know that I am nothing like Draco’s grandmother, and I never intend to be. I understand that there will be issues ahead, especially considering who you and your brother are, but when I look at Draco now I can see how happy he is. All I have ever wanted is for him to live a long and happy life. I will not see your blood status as an obstacle, and should anyone wish to question you, I will happily remind them that you are descended from the Potters and the Peverells, two pureblooded lines, and that I officially accept you as a partner to Draco.”

Nichole looked at the woman and thought that she had never seen someone as fierce as Narcissa Malfoy. The woman smiled at her and she smiled back, giving her a muttered phrase of gratitude before they re-entered the house.  
***  
Lucius did not appear until dinner that night, and had barely spoken a word the entirety of the meal. He instead chose to glare at Nichole until her shaking caused her to drop her fork on the table. Draco had been forced to sit across from her, but Narcissa took her hand and glared at her husband. 

“Lucius,” the woman’s voice was steely as she spoke, “if you do not wish to show some form of human decency to our guest then you can take your dinner into your study and eat it alone.”

The man’s glaring ceased then, and he cleared his throat before speaking. 

“It appears that my wife has taken a liking to your friend, Draco.”

Draco glared at the man, gulping slightly before speaking. “Girlfriend, father. Mother has taken a liking to my girlfriend.”

“And,” Lucius sipped his wine, “is your girlfriend aware of my own expectations for a proper courtship?”

“Lucius-” Narcissa began, but was cut off by his hand raising to quiet her. 

“You are to marry a pureblood, Draco. You are to court a pureblood. Specifically a pureblood who understands the importance of maintaining purity and ensuring the preservation of wizarding society. I will not have you engaging in a fickle romance with a halfblood with no claims.”

Narcissa stood suddenly, glaring at her husband once more. 

“Lucius,” she began again, refusing to be cut off this time. “You may think that you have a say in this, but might I remind you that I am in charge of approving of a match. We agreed as such when he was two years old and you have made the unbreakable vow. Should you refer to Miss. Potter as though she is invisible or some nuisance again, or should you attempt to interfere with this match at all, I will seek retribution. Now sit silently or act with some form of civility rather than raving at your child about such irritating politics as blood purity. You are well aware of where I stand on the issue and to insult Draco or Miss. Potter is to insult your wife.”

Lucius glared, took another sip of his wine, and continued to eat his meal in silence before hiding in his study the rest of the evening.  
***  
The next day was a bit less awkward, but at tea time Lucius joined the rest of them in the parlor. He began silently, but with a nudge from Narcissa he began to awkwardly induce conversation. 

“Miss. Potter,” he began, and Nichole felt herself straighten up immediately, “I understand that you were raised in America. Please tell us more about that.”

He looked at Narcissa, who nodded approvingly before looking at Nichole and gesturing for her to speak.

“Well,” she spoke softly, feeling Draco’s hand slowly make its way into hers, “I was raised in North Carolina. It’s in the south, so it’s usually pretty warm there which is a stark contrast to England. I have three adoptive siblings, Anthony, Elizabeth, and Anne, and my parents. We’ve lived in the same house for as long as I can remember, and all of us have our own bedrooms now because dad built onto the house a few years ago. I’m the youngest, and before Hogwarts I went to the same school as Anthony every year. Anne is the oldest, she graduates in a year, and Elizabeth is a year under her. We all studied pretty much the same thing, math, English, science, and history, but they all took Spanish and I decided to take French. 

I knew I was adopted, and I knew that I had a twin and magic. My parents wanted me to embrace that, but they could never find Professor Dumbledore. Instead of letting my magic get out of control, my dad helped me calm myself down so that I could focus all of my energy and ensure that I was safe. He was always really supportive, and my siblings just thought that it was normal. They said that I was still their sister, but I was just able to do some things that they weren’t. 

Other than that, I had a normal childhood. I hung out with my friends and played video games, read books about the most random historical things, and I spent a lot of time with my family and our dog, Makka. I spent the most time with my parents, though. My mother is amazing and my father is my best friend. He’s strong and brave and everything I’ve always wanted to be. He can always come up with a plan and he understands how important it is to chase after your ambitions. He’s probably the reason I got into Slytherin, he taught me that if I wanted to prove myself I had to go where my ambitions lead me and leave room for no one to get in my way.”

Narcissa had been engrossed in her words, hanging onto them just as she did for Draco. Lucius looked less impressed, but seemed much less alien to her as she watched his reactions. 

“You were raised by muggles,” he began, sounding puzzled, “and they somehow taught you to handle your accidental magic enough to suppress it without becoming an obscurial?”

Nichole nodded, thinking back to the unit on obscurials from DADA. 

“And you think your muggle father is the reason you’re a Slytherin?”

The man sounded absolutely appalled, but she nodded anyways.

“My father is a very ambitious man and he has always taught me that true strength and bravery lies in following your own desires and not the desires of others. For instance, my brother and Draco have never gotten along, and I could have listened when he told me that Draco was bad news and would only ever harm me, but instead I thought about what I wanted and I went for it. Instead of being reckless like a Gryffindor and sacrificing my own happiness for the greater good, I focused on what would make me happy and what would ensure that I had a good life ahead of me.”

Draco smiled at her, and she felt her heart swell. Sure, Lucius and the blood supremacy were an obstacle, but she loved the boy in front of her with all of her heart, and she knew that they would make it through all of it if they just stayed true to themselves and followed their own paths.

“That actually sounds very intriguing,” Lucius muttered, grumbling a bit under his breath before continuing. “I would like to speak to you some more on this, Miss. Potter. Perhaps this match is a good idea after all. You seem much more intelligent than I believed someone from your family could be.”

He left the room, and Nichole smiled and took his compliment for exactly what it was.  
***  
Their time at the Manor continued very similarly, only changing course on Christmas Day when the four of them found themselves in front of the tree opening gifts and eating Mipsy’s fresh-baked cookies. 

Narcissa had given her a book on Victorian flower language, her own copy it seemed, as it had been highlighted and annotated by neat cursive. 

Lucius had gifted her and Draco both sets of quills and parchment for classes, and had huffed out something unintelligible when they both thanked him.

Finally, Draco had given her two gifts, one being a teddy bear sprayed with his cologne and placed under a stasis charm, and the other being a set of two way mirrors for communicating when they were home during the summers or in their dorms. She had hugged him and the teddy bear so tightly that he complained about a lack of oxygen for them both, but his laughter was completely worth it, and the smile when he received the photo album of the two of them was absolutely priceless.


	7. Chapter 7

Their return to Hogwarts brought with it the dreaded realization that the tournament was still very much a thing and that Harry was still very much a contestant. Harry had held her hand on the train, only stopping when Pansy entered the compartment and exclaimed that holding Nichole’s hand was her job and her job only and promptly plopped herself in between them.

Once they arrived and classes began again, Nichole felt a familiar sense of dread wash over her, and she knew that the world as they knew it was going to change, but she didn’t know why.  
***  
The Second task was harder to understand, and halfway through their attempt to find something that would allow Harry to breathe underwater, Nichole was dragged off to Dumbledore’s office.

Harry looked for her the next morning, and found the Slytherins doing the same. Draco and Pansy looked worried, and Blaise and Theo seemed to be attempting to comfort them. 

Harry swallowed his gillyweed as the horn sounded, winked at Ron, and dived into the lake.

His sister was floating there, red hair whirling behind her in the water next to Hermione, and her eyes remained closed. 

Harry swam over, the first to do so, and marveled at how peaceful she looked.

***

Fleur kissed his cheeks, and she kissed hers too.

Nichole gazed around until she finally found Pansy and Draco.

The two stared and then nodded.

She turned back to her brother.

***

“Hazza,” the girl whispered later in the night, as the Gryffindors cheered around them.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

***  
Pansy was cross with her.

That’s what the girl thought.

“Nichole,” the brunette began, “you and I need to talk about whatever is going on with you and Draco.”

She sighed and nodded.

She explained.

She explained the worry about the other girls, the fear of being wrong, and the worry over the fact that he had never whispered three words to her before. She explained as well, that she thought that the gestures and the time spent together during Christmas might have led to a confession of love, but that it had not occurred and she didn’t know whether or not to be worried.

“Nichole,” the pureblood whispered, “he doesn’t know how to.”

“Oh?”

Nichole heard explanations she had never thought of before, and she wondered how she could help. 

***  
Draco Lucius Malfoy had been raised in a prim and proper home with prim and proper teachings. He had learned from a young age what the differences were between a dinner fork and a salad fork, but he had never learned how to properly express his happiness with how a meal had turned out. He had been taught how to express discontent with a curtain’s display, but had no idea how to express anger or sadness.

He had been shown love by his mother, but he couldn’t remember how to express that love outside of the environment he was so used to. 

He was shown so many things, but not how to give happiness.

He was taught how to act properly, rather than how to express emotions, and he resented that now more than ever. He had seen how his parents had changed over the break and that had given him hope that, maybe, he would become more open as well. He hoped that his gifts to her might have shown her that he loved her.

He looked at Nichole with eyes only ever meant for her and thought that maybe, just maybe, she would understand with a simple glance.

He wished she would understand without him having to say anything.


	8. Chapter 8

Snape was teaching potions when Nichole felt the hair on her arms raise up and goosebumps cover her body. Something was wrong, but she was trying to cut her flobberworms properly and she didn’t want to mess up a potion over a simple feeling. She continued to work on her flobberworms, using the slicing technique Draco had shown her last term.

It was only when Karkaroff stormed into the classroom talking about his left arm that she realized she had been right.

She remembered seeing Lucius and Snape consistently covering their left arms. 

She remembered hearing about the Dark Mark after the Quidditch World Cup.

She remembered and she worried and she watched.

Draco watched, too, terrified of what this could mean.  
***  
Hermione had received awful letters in the morning and heard awful remarks all day, and it was only when the merry band of Slytherins met her in the hallways that it finally stopped. One glare from Pansy was all the other students needed to shut their mouths. Blaise decided to stick with Hermione all day, and Pansy resolved to have the owls return the hate mail to their senders attached with the most infuriated howlers she could possibly create.

Hermione went to Care of Magical Creatures, Blaise beside her and the others following them, and the second they saw the nifflers they were to be studying, the entire group broke out into smiles.   
***  
The same man who had held Harry at wandpoint at the Quidditch World Cup was now wandering the grounds, apparently having gone completely insane at this point. Nichole was not surprised, but she was most definitely surprised when his body was discovered afterwards. She cornered Hermione in the library, grabbing her hand and pulling her to a hidden corner before asking her questions.

The two girls whispered for hours in the library, so quietly that even Madame Pince couldn’t hear them. They spoke of Voldemort and Death Eaters and Morsmordre. They spoke of the Malfoys, the Crouch’s, and of Karkaroff and Snape. 

They wondered, really, if Harry would ever be safe. Nichole told Hermione that she would never take her life for granted, but that sometimes she wished she could share his burden if only for a moment. She wished desperately for her brother to be safe, but they both knew that could not happen. Not yet, at least.

It was then, however, that the girls concocted a plan. The plan was dangerous, potentially even stupid, but it was a plan, and all it would take was Harry’s invisibility cloak and some persuasion.

Nichole had to chuckle when Hermione reminded her that she was a Slytherin, and that persuasion was meant to be one of her specialties.


	9. Chapter 9

Draco and Pansy were confused. Nichole was nowhere to be seen, and Harry was about to enter the maze. Hermione and Ron were on the other side of Blaise speaking in hushed whispers about something, Hermione looking worried and Ron turning red with anger. Pansy nudged Draco as the music began and Harry braced himself to run forward. Their entire group shouted wishes of good luck, and with the final beat of the music, Harry Potter entered the maze.

Should one look close enough, they may see the glint of reflection off of the air behind him. Only Hermione Granger and Albus Dumbledore noticed, and the two locked eyes as the greenery locked the Potter twins in the maze. 

Blaise was used to ignoring the people around him. He hated drama and politics, but the second he heard Abigail Macnair mention something about her uncle’s plans for the night to Marcus Flint, he knew that there was more to the maze, and could only hope that both Potters made it out alive. He turned to Pansy, gripping onto her shirt before telling her exactly what had been said.

Her usually tan face grew paler than Draco’s and she moved over to speak to Hermione in rapid tones, Blaise watching for a moment as Ron grew red again and Hermione grew even more pale.

The girls ran down to Dumbledore, but when the first set of red sparks hit the air, they knew it was too late.  
***  
Harry had realized his sister was behind him the second she tripped over a vine and landed nearly on top of him. After checking to ensure that she was alright, the invisibility cloak draped across his arm, he looked at her, seething.

“Why in the world are you so stupid?” The boy’s voice raised enough that his sister had to shush him gently before someone found them. 

“Hermione and I couldn’t let you do this alone,” the girl sighed. “I can’t sit around like a sitting duck anymore while you risk your life. I love you and I refuse to just watch as you’re tossed around like some pawn for this world, Harry.”

Harry sighed, about to argue back when they heard a struggle around the corner. He placed the cloak over her head and the twins ran toward their fates together.

Cedric and Krum were fighting, Krum obviously under the Imperius curse, and after a moment of hesitation, Harry broke them apart and stunned Krum, sending up red sparks for the second time that night. Cedric, Harry, and Nichole circled around the Goblet, Nichole finally peeling the cloak off for good and shoving it into the endless pocket Hermione had added to her jeans. Cedric motioned for Harry to grab it, saying he deserved it, but both of the twins denied, telling him they should take it together to finally end all of this nonsense. 

Nichole regretted the idea the second she felt the familiar pull of a portkey, and held onto the two boys for dear life.   
***  
The graveyard was dark and desolate, and Nichole only had a second to think before she heard voices coming from somewhere nearby. 

She turned to the boys sharply before stunning them both and putting the invisibility cloak over the two of them. Within seconds of the familiar fabric hitting their forms, Walden Macnair crossed the threshold nearest to the large Grim Reaper statue and forced her into the binds of the headstone. Nichole grunted as stone cut into her back and her arms, and she felt warm blood trickling out of her in numerous spots.The figure in Macnair’s arms looked like a deformed house elf to her, but she knew exactly who it was, and as he drew nearer she felt her senses grow dull and her vision grow fuzzy. 

Voldemort’s form whispered to the man, but she knew exactly what he was saying as soon as Macnair began to stutter and apologize. Wrong twin.

The ritual progressed, and she thanked Merlin that Harry and Cedric remained stunned. She felt gently in her pocket for the two way mirror Draco had given her, and tapped it twice to activate it in her pocket. She felt it buzz, and dragged her finger down the side to ensure he was not heard on her end. 

Macnair, luckily, was much too focused on mumbling out dark magic to notice, but the second he leered at her with a much-too-sharp dagger, she knew she was toast.

The girl screamed in pain as the knife was dragged down her arm, her blood thrown into the water, and then again down the side of her neck, barely missing her throat. Macnair sneered, obviously taking pleasure in this. Why wouldn’t he, she thought, he kills things for a living.

As soon as the executioner chopped off his own arm, she knew it was over. Voldemort’s figure rose from the cauldron, much larger than before, and she watched as he pointed his wand to Mcnair’s Dark Mark and returned Macnair’s arm in some twisted fashion before eventually turning to her.

“Welcome my friends” his raspy voice spoke, “thirteen years its been, yet here you stand before me as if it were only yesterday. I confess myself disappointed that not one of you attempted to find me.” He ripped off their masks one by one, before turning to the last figure. Nichole would know that hair anywhere. She had seen it at tea, by the fire at Christmas, and now she saw it as Voldemort ripped off the last mask. “Even you, Lucius.”

Lucius Malfoy stuttered, trying to excuse himself for not returning. Voldemort simply looked at him, hit him with the Cruciatus curse, and turned back to look at her.

Nichole watched Lucius with concern. The man who had asked her about muggle lives and how their goals were so similar, who had spent the last day with them at the Manor chuckling to himself about Nichole and Narcissa’s ramblings, who had walked with her onto the Platform and waved her goodbye, was now writhing in pain on the ground, staring at her with sorry eyes.

Voldemort turned to her, getting as close as possible. 

“Ah Miss. Potter,” he seethed, “I see you have decided to take your brother’s place tonight. Tell me, where is Harry?”

“You have no right to say his name,” she choked out, the blood rushing from her wounds making her even dizzier.

“Tell me where he is!” The snake-like man sneered at her, and she breathed in softly before responding.

“I left him in the maze,” she mumbled, “I followed him in and then made him stay behind. I wanted to end all of this myself.”

Voldemort scoffed. “You will have to do then, child. Perhaps killing you will send your pathetic brother the message he so desperately needs to hear.”

“And what might that be, Tom?” 

Nichole’s head whipped around. Her stunning spell had worn off, but it seemed like only Harry had left the safety of the cloak. Voldemort laughed before turning to the boy.

Harry held his wand out, his green eyes hardening as he watched his bleeding sister struggle against the stones. 

“What is this message, Tom?” Harry spoke, the anger present in both his voice and his posture as he shook. “I think that the message you’ve always sent is that no matter how many times you come back, you will always lose. You’re weak, Riddle, and everyone knows it.”

With that, the spells started flying, unforgivable curses flying and hitting everything. Nichole shuddered as the cruciatus curse flew right past her nose, and felt her vision grow even worse as a new cut formed on her thigh. She focused in on Harry as much as she could, and watched as her brother’s magic hit Voldemort’s, sparks flying everywhere. One stray spell hit the stones surrounding her, and she was finally released. As she looked up, she caught Lucius Malfoy starting at her, his wand drawn, and nodded her gratitude at the man.

Harry’s spell clashed with Voldemort himself, the ghosts of their parents and a few other figures rushing towards the dark wizard, and he ran towards her, grabbing her hand before running to Cedric and the portkey. Nichole felt the pull of magic, and heard cheers all around her, before falling into her brother’s arms, the world going black around her.


	10. Chapter 10

Draco Malfoy was frantic, as were the others in his mismatched group of friends. Albus Dumbledore watched the mirror like all of them, no one able to see the events, but everyone hearing the screams of pain coming from the female Potter twin and the words spoken between Harry and Voldemort. Draco found himself clutching onto Pansy as the tears ran down both of their faces, Hermione and Ron mirroring them. The line cut off as soon as the last killing curse was cast, and Draco turned to bury his head in Pansy’s shoulder.

They waited what felt like hours, the entire group crying (even Blaise, although he would never admit to it) as all of them feared for the twins and Cedric. Dumbledore’s eyes had lost their spark and turned a deep shade of grey. The entire stadium around them was quiet until a loud pop of apparition was heard and the band played the Hogwarts March. 

It was when Fleur screamed that everything grew quiet, and Draco heard Hermione gasp and break into a run. He refused to lift his head until Pansy forced him to, and the second he turned around he, too, broke into a run.

Red hair touched the ground as Harry lay his sister there, and the blood pouring from her wounds matched it. Draco kneeled next to Harry, crying as Madame Pompfrey fussed over the girl. The boys gripped onto each other, hoping desperately for the best to happen.

It was when the mediwitch finally closed the wound on her neck that Nichole’s pulse became steady enough to move her to the Hospital Wing. 

Lilian Nichole Potter would not remember the events that occurred, but she would always remember the feeling of Draco’s arms carrying her all the way there, and she would always remember his heartbeat in her ears. 

Harry, on the other hand, was accosted by one Barty Crouch Jr., and the next day Nichole would hear all about the polyjuiced Death Eater from her brother, and all about how Cedric had given his winnings from the Tournament to Nichole out of sheer gratitude. He had told Amos and the Minister that he would be dead were it not for the girl’s quick thinking, and they had agreed to allow the transfer. 

The Minister, however, was not happy about the story he had been told, and refused to believe that any of the children were telling the truth. Nichole looked the man dead in the eye from her spot in the Hospital Wing and asked him if he was born stupid or simply chose to be ignorant. The man stuttered and gasped, and finally left the room in a huff.  
***  
Draco was not pleased. Nichole and Harry had explained his father’s presence at the ritual, and he was livid. His letter to his mother had explained everything, and her response of “I will handle it” had the entire group smiling. 

The end of year speech focused on bravery, wisdom, cunning, and loyalty. Dumbledore allowed Slytherin to win the House Cup this year, explaining that some of the house’s residents had proven their ability to establish connections throughout the school, and that they had proven that this was a time for change and new views. 

The Slytherins threw a small party that night, inviting a select few members of other houses as well, and as Nichole sat next to Draco and Pansy, listening to a drunk Theo tell a drunk Cedric all about Nifflers and their history, she thought that maybe the future wouldn’t be so morbid as long as they had moments like these. 

***  
The Platform was full of families, and in the wide stretch containing parents of various backgrounds, Draco and Nichole never expected to see the Malfoy’s next to the Hendersons.

James Henderson was speaking to Lucius, his stoic posture telling both of them that it was not a pleasant conversation. Narcissa was focused on her husband, as was Geneva Henderson, but the second the witch spoke, all eyes turned to her. Geneva hugged both of the Malfoys, shocking everyone in their group, and as the teenagers made their way to their families, they saw all four adults turn to stare at them. 

“Miss. Potter,” Narcissa smiled, “I trust that you are feeling much better?”

Nichole nodded, looked at the woman, and then glanced at her parents, whose gazes softened at the sight of their daughter, healed but still bruised in some areas. Lucius looked directly at Nichole as he spoke.

“I apologize, Miss. Potter, for my part in that night. Once the Mark calls, it causes extreme pain until the bearer answers. I was weak, and I apologize deeply.”

Nichole and Draco looked at each other before the girl responded.

“I accept your apology, and I give you my thanks for removing me from the entrapment I was in,” the girl spoke slowly, unsure of what she was saying but knowing she had to say something. “I only hope that in the future you will not answer the call.”

Narcissa inhaled sharply, staring at Lucius, who refused to nod, but looked the girl in the eyes. 

“I am sorry, Miss. Potter, but it is not that simple,” Draco glared at his father as the man spoke. “I will, however, swear to protect you and yours no matter the cost. I will allow my wife to explain more during your time with us over the summer. For now, we must take our leave. We look forward to seeing you after your birthday.”

Narcissa hugged both of the Potters and Draco before she and her husband left the platform. Draco steeled himself for a moment before they turned to the family in front of them and began speaking.

“You two,” James Henderson pointed to the twins, “have a lot of explaining to do.”  
***  
After explanations, yelling, and Draco standing awkwardly as they waited for the portkey to activate, the family finally calmed down and prepared to go home. The manky boot was in the middle of the same field as last time, and as the Hendersons and Harry circled around it and waited for Jame Henderson’s wristwatch to hit the hour mark, Draco pulled Nichole to the side.

Draco Malfoy had never been taught how to express his emotions. He had been shown love by his mother and, rarely, his father. He spent his childhood learning many things, but not once had he been taught the importance of telling someone how much they meant to him. 

Draco Malfoy had never understood what it meant to be brave, to dive headfirst into something without knowing the outcome.

He stood in front of the girl he held so dearly, the girl who had changed him completely and shown him what love was like. In that moment, Draco Malfoy decided to be brave.

“Darling,” he started, staring into the girl’s wide eyes, “I need to tell you something.”

Nichole nodded, muttering out a quiet “okay” and gesturing for him to continue. He gripped her hands in his, marveling at how thin his fingers were compared to hers, and how scarred they were from the graveyard.

“Lilian Nichole Potter,” he inhaled, scratching the back of his neck and shuddering before continuing. “Two years ago, I would have never thought that I could change so drastically, and I definitely never thought that a Potter would make me do it. When I met you in Snape’s potions laboratory, you were a nuisance to me. I didn’t trust you because of my experiences with your brother and I treated you as though you were invisible. Once we began to speak, I knew that I had been wrong.

You were so different, so intelligent and ambitious and caring. Every night that we spent speaking to each other is etched into my memory so deeply that not even an obliviation would remove them. You have taught me how to care, how to smile again, and how to love again.”

The girl inhaled, her eyes widening at the word.  
“I just wanted to tell you that I care so deeply for you,” her eyes dropped to their hands as she thought to herself that there was no possible way he was going to actually say it. “I just wanted to tell you that hearing what happened that night in the maze and seeing you afterwards broke me. I just wanted to tell you that-”

Mr. Henderson’s wristwatch chimed, signaling the hour. Nichole sighed and went to make her way to the rest of the family, but Draco tugged her back to him. 

“I just wanted to tell you,” his voice grew stronger, “that I love you, Lilian Nichole Potter.”

She looked him in the eyes, and the world stopped for the tiniest moment as she smiled.

“I love you, too, Draco Lucius Malfoy.”

They made their way to the portkey, wondering what on earth the summer ahead could bring, but not caring at the same time.


End file.
